


nothing like the canyon of my heart

by alderations



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: (again not in a fun way), (but not in a happy way), Angst, Bruises, Canon-Typical Violence, Communication, Flashbacks, Hickeys, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Intrusive memories, Love Bites, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suggestive Themes, flowery as heck cuz its 2019 and im living my best life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-22 23:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17672291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alderations/pseuds/alderations
Summary: Juno knew this wasn’t real. He knew where and when he was, thirty-nine and safe and in love, and he knew that he should be able to see through the crimson clouds behind his eye.





	nothing like the canyon of my heart

**Author's Note:**

> please read the tags just to be safe!

Glowing orange-gold light woke Juno from the deepest sleep he’d had in decades. He wasn’t surprised to see the window open, even though he knew it shouldn’t be, and somewhere that contradiction had a meaning, somewhere too far from his fuzzy mind to make sense, until he looked to his side and… Peter.

If that warm light hadn’t felt angelic enough as it rousted Juno, it was something else altogether where it haloed his love. Between the haze of city smog floating in through the window and the impossibly plush pillows stacked around him, Peter Nureyev’s face was the softest thing Juno could imagine: round cheeks, gentle lips, mussed hair tangled over a blissful expression. Then his mouth twitched, like a dream of a smirk, and his predator teeth broke the illusion. This was the man Juno had fallen for months ago: a paradox, a whisper of danger amidst the promise of trust written so plainly on his features.

He was also currently between Juno and the bathroom, which was an issue.

It took at least five minutes, but Juno extracted himself from the tangled sheets and crept down the bed, over Peter’s outrageously long legs, and into the bathroom without issue. Behind him, Peter gave a tiny snore, as if conceding, for once, that Juno was nearly as sneaky as himself. It was the best he’d ever get in that regard. The thought made Juno chuckle, his heart swelling with the keen, awe-striking love that he felt for his thief, as he emptied his bladder and washed his hands. Before he turned to creep back into bed, he glanced at the mirror just to see what the previous night had done to his hair, and—and—and—and—

_Glass shattered. Somewhere. A voice, higher than his, the back of a hand getting way too acquainted with his mouth—_

A series of bruises marked a determined path down Juno’s left shoulder. They were still fresh, more red than purple, still easy to see against the brown of Juno’s skin, and if he squinted he could see the points of those teeth he loved.

_He was screaming now, Benten, Benten, Ben Ben Ben, not really aware of his body moving so much as pain in his shoulder and his side and then his throat as her foot made contact—_

Juno knew this wasn’t real. He knew where and when he was, thirty-nine and safe and in love, and he knew that he should be able to see through the crimson clouds behind his eye, he should be able to shake it off and go back to Peter and be held like he deserved, dammit, but his body wouldn’t move.

_HCPD interrogation rooms always had that iron tang in the air, but it was sharper now since it was coming from Juno’s own nose, spilling out over his face, and when he finally blinked the red from his eyes and looked up it wasn’t just the captain, Diamond was there behind him, staring—staring—he knew Falco was on the other side of the glass, but even they wouldn’t do anything, the only person here who’d ever help him was Rita and what was she supposed to do, he couldn’t breathe, Diamond’s crystalline eyes held him in place with sympathy he could never believe as the captain smashed his face into the table again and—_

“Juno!”

He was on the floor. It felt like he’d been here, fully aware of his surroundings, but somewhere he’d slipped all the way back in time, and also onto his knees. Peter crouched in front of him as if he hadn’t been awake for mere seconds. Juno wanted so badly to fall into his arms and be _safe,_ if he could only move, but then Peter extended an arm toward him and he flinched. Like frost from fire. Like his love would ever hurt him the way—the way—

“Juno,” his caramel-soft voice cut through the haze again. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I can—I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Juno opened his mouth with every intention of begging Peter to come closer, but he could only manage a strangled sob and a nod. It was for the best, anyway. Who knew what he could do to Peter in this state? Distantly, like coming through a tunnel and back into himself, Juno realized that his face was soggy with tears. Not blood, like in the HCPD offices. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” he finally croaked, forcing himself to glance up at Peter.

He was crying, too. A glassy sheen covered his sable eyes, sparkling with the same brightness as ever. “Don’t be. I’m here now.” Juno realized, through the thinning fog in his head, that Peter had no way of knowing what set him off, which meant that he’d eventually have to talk about it. An involuntary shudder raced through him, and Peter stood up—slow, easy, both eyes still on Juno—and then retreated into the room.

In the seconds of his absence, Juno’s heart picked up again; he didn’t have time to overthink before Peter was back, with the comforter from their bed bunched up in his arms. He offered it to Juno from a safe distance, watching with furrowed brows as Juno arranged the blankets around his neck just in case he caught another glimpse of the mirror. When Juno looked up again, it had clicked.

“It was the… the marks?” he prodded, poking his own neck as if to mirror the love bites scattered across Juno’s shoulder. Juno gave an honest attempt at responding, but his mouth wouldn’t move. “My apologies, then,” Peter continued, taking Juno’s silence as an answer. “I would never have left them if I had known you didn’t, ah, enjoy them.”

“I do enjoy them,” rasped Juno. His eyes fixed on a vertex between the floor tiles, somewhere he could keep track of Peter’s movements without having to see the guilt on his face. “Trust me, I love your—your teeth. And, uh. Everything that you do with your, um, teeth.” Peter snorts at that, which would get a fond laugh out of Juno on a better day. “It’s just that I’ve… well, I’ve always loved them. Being marked by someone, y’know? Claimed. Like they want me to be _seen._ My—the person I was going to marry—they, uh, shared that sentiment.”

His eyes finally drifted up from the floor as Peter’s body tensed, and Juno braced himself again, instinctively fearing some unknown form of violence. But his lover’s eyes were lost somewhere in the middle distance, his dazzling teeth worrying at his lip like he was fighting to keep his thoughts inside. “You thought I was going to hit you,” he murmured. “You were calling for Benzaiten, earlier. This goes deeper, yes?”

Juno bit his tongue to silence a fresh wave of tears, even as Peter looked up at him with raw, bleeding pain on his face. Not pity, not sympathy, just pain, like his soul could reach out to Juno’s and scoop himself a share of the misery, like that would make it any easier on either of them. “It was a… thing with Diamond, but I… everyone I’ve loved has left bruises. I don’t know, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just—”

“Even Mick?”

It took Juno a minute to realize what he meant, and then he couldn’t help a rough, tiny laugh. It was still so strange to think of his friends as people who _loved_ him. “Not on purpose, but, c’mon. It’s Mick.”

“Point taken.” Peter took a deep breath, then looked up toward the mirror as if it had personally wronged him, before his face morphed into contemplation. “I think I have some ointment in here that should accelerate the healing process, at the very least. Would that help?”

Juno blinked up at where Peter was already rummaging through the medicine cabinet. “Yeah, that—I think that would,” he managed, before reaching out a hand in Peter’s direction. “I’ll help you look if you help me up.”

They made eye contact for a long moment, and Peter looked strangely blank. Usually, Juno could read his emotions fairly well, at least compared to most, but he was making it hard right now—for Juno’s sake, probably. To hide how much it hurt to see Juno flinching away from him and crying on the bathroom floor. Then he grasped Juno’s hand and pulled him to his feet, gentle but still strong enough to pull him into a hug, as long as Juno would let him.

All that gentle morning sunlight must have seeped right into his skin, because Peter was so _warm._ Juno wrapped the comforter around both their shoulders and shivered a bit when Peter pressed a lingering kiss to his temple. His warmth felt like an invitation, like a promise that he’d never close his heart to Juno, and Juno wanted so badly to show him the same.

They shuffled back to the bed and sat down, still wrapped in the blankets, so that Peter could rub the bruise cream into Juno’s neck with tender hands. The bites were sore, but that part didn’t bother him; Juno chewed on the inside of his lip to hold in a satisfied sigh when Peter’s fingers pressed a bit too hard and revived the memory of vulpine teeth tearing him apart. Metaphorically. “Are you alright?” Peter asked, his touch already retreating, when Juno couldn’t hold in a little whimper.

Juno had let plenty of people manhandle his neck before, but never without the secret hope that they’d do some real damage. Here, as the sunrise lit Peter up in shades of peach and rose, Juno didn’t want to be hurt. He knew he wouldn’t be hurt, and he was okay with it. “Yeah, yeah, I’m. I’m good,” he mumbled, playing with the frayed edge of a pillow. Tears were building in his eyes again. “I—I love you. Peter. So goddamn much.”

The hand on his neck moved to tip his chin up, until he was looking into Peter’s eyes, turned to honey in the light. “That makes two of us,” Peter replied, “my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> short author backstory: I've been in 2 long-term relationships ever, and the first one was with a douchebag who couldn't bring himself to break up with me the normal way, so he cheated (a lot) and let the hickeys do the job for him. So hickeys are a significant trigger for me, and I always feel ridiculous about it, so I decided to have Catharsis. We know that Juno was abused at various points in his life, and likely by romantic partners, so—even though he gets beat up all the time—someone he loves leaving bruises might fuck him up, idk. I tried to express what flashbacks are like for me, but (thank god) I haven't had one in a while so I'm not sure I captured it.
> 
> also I'm so sorry for being a flowery sonuva but I am going to be my best self in 2019, and that means writing in different styles. Especially. Sappy ridiculous ones. And besides, we all know Juno's obnoxiously syrupy romantic in his head.
> 
> leave a comment if you'd like, or come see me on tumblr (translillie) or twitter (alderations)! I hope you enjoyed reading & would love to hear what headcanons y'all have. Or OR prompts/requests/suggestions. I really wanna write some jupeter smut soon so I'd love to get a feel for what the people want (besides souls, bdum tsss).
> 
> thanks to the [bf](https://benbokenobi.tumblr.com) for betaing and my [roommate](https://toralyzer.tumblr.com) for listening to me read off lists of eye color descriptors. And you're welcome for not describing peter's eyes as "football brown" because I genuinely read that in one article and couldn't stop laughing for 10 minutes. _football brown._ can you believe.
> 
> title is from "Happy" by Mother Mother, which is a very Juno song. (most of my music is.)


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